


of blessings, of curses

by KicktheMatt



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Recovery, hey! this one isn't sad.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 11:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KicktheMatt/pseuds/KicktheMatt
Summary: a character study of my fav maestrono warnings really!





	of blessings, of curses

The ivory pressed warm against Vixel’s fingertips. Rays of late afternoon golden sunlight draped across his hands, across the keys, as he played a soft melody. Chords sprung forth from within the piano, breathing into life a song universally understood to those who may be so blessed as to hear it-- Vixel himself, and the circus performer leaning upon the instrument that Vixel played, engrossed in the song with a child-like wonder in his eyes.

There was a comfortable, intimate silence as the musician began to strike the very last of the song’s notes, ending with a completing first, tying the whole song together into a pleasing bundle for the two to take in. Vixel’s delicate hands rested upon the keys for a moment longer, before he took a deep breath and turned towards the man accompanying him. “Well?” He asked, “What do you think?”

“I think it’s amazing, maestro,” Fritz replied, “It’s beautiful.”

Vixel gently smiled, turning his head away and running his hands along the white ivory keys. “Thank you, I appreciate the compliment, Fritz.”

Fritz straightened himself out, crossing his arms as he looked at the musician in front of him. “You’re very welcome, Mozart.” The smile Vixel shared was returned to him from the performer, as he walked towards the other with gentle, precise steps. Even away from the spotlight, Fritz remained ever the performer in his mannerisms. “I can’t help but notice, though-- and forgive me if this is rash, or stupid, or anything like that-- it seems like whatever you play, no matter how happy it may be, seems...sad under the surface.”

Vixel’s eyebrows furrowed as he listened. “You sense a sadness when I play?”

“Yeah, but it’s not outright _sad_ , y’know? It’s melancholy, or slightly depressing, or solemn.”

“I suppose I understand what you mean,” Vixel took a deep breath, “After all, emotions of the musician can be reflected within the piece.”

Fritz cocked his head, then moved to sit next to Vixel on the piano’s bench. “Why are you feelin’ like that when you’re playing?”

Vixel shrugged. “Music has...always been bittersweet for me. I’ve told you of my past with it--”

“With the choir and whatnot, yeah.”

“--Exactly, and I suppose I have some emotional baggage still lying beneath the surface that I have yet to confront.”

“I understand. If you ever need to unload any of that, I’m here as always,” Fritz’s tone reflected comfort to Vixel, who smiled in appreciation.

“I appreciate it, Fritz.”

There was a silence between the two. A breeze could be heard beyond the glass windowpane, carrying the twittering of songbirds along it. Vixel could hear the aria waiting to be written among the chittering birds and the flowing breeze, brought along by the deep bass tones of the dragons in the roost above. 

Vixel’s eyes closed as he took in the sounds around him. A drumming pattern rose from his fingertips, accompanying the lovely sounds he heard from outside. He could hear the tale being told of a migration from the trees of the south to the warming branches of the north, told by the melodic chirps of songbirds returning from their departure. They spoke of the trees, the leaves-- the lives to come about and the lives tragically lost. It was as Fritz had described Vixel’s earlier song: Solemn, but cheerful nonetheless.

The bittersweetness of music left Vixel feeling the sting of past jealousies deep within his heart. He knew he needed to heal at some point, but the time for that was not now. Tomorrow, he presumed. Tomorrow seems much better. Tomorrow is much more likely.

The musician smiled a small smile, continuing to take in the sounds around him. He could feel the composition waiting to be unfurled from his fingertips in an ink-filled pen, but that would have to wait. He just wanted to _listen_ , to feel what he thought to hide the feeling of. 

Fritz cracked a smile, about to speak, but instead waited while Vixel drummed and listened. After spending so much time with Vixel, Fritz had begun to notice when Vixel was picking up on a certain song as the time arose. Fritz took this time to listen as well, to try to pick up on the accompaniments Vixel heard that he could not.

They sat, listening, taking in the natural sounds around them, silent in their own rights but using that silence as a catalyst for music. Listening to the highs, the lows, the sweeping chorus and the bridges between them all. A wondrous thing, it is, to be given the gift of eternal, never-ending music.

“ _A gift,_ ” Thought Vixel, “ _A gift of a blessing and a curse._ ”


End file.
